


Whatever Dies, Was Not Mixed Equally

by wolfwithwoodenteeth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Violence, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:42:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8806699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithwoodenteeth/pseuds/wolfwithwoodenteeth
Summary: Jon Snow is struggling to get closure after ending an unhealthy relationship. Sansa is convinced she's found the right man.But then unexpected circumstances bring them together after years of being apart and they find themselves drawn to each other.The title is taken from John Donne's The Good Morrow, one of my favourite poems.





	1. Jon I

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little modern AU I started a couple of months ago. I only have this first chapter ready and about half of the second chapter, which I might post next week.
> 
> I don't know why I keep doing this to myself, coming up with ideas for multichapter fics I don't have time for... The struggle is real lol!

Jon pulled over to the side of the road. He was only fifteen minutes away from Winterfell after his sudden departure from Castle Black. He dabbed a tissue at the scratches over his eye, ignoring the sting. Sighing, he pulled out his phone. Who should he call? His mum?  _No._ God, why had he decided to drive to Winterfell? He should've just gone to Sam. Any other of his friends were out of the question. His ego was still too wounded to explain to them what had just happened. Sam was different though, he wouldn't judge him.

Still, all he'd wanted when he'd left his appartment, stunned and blood trickling into his eye, was to go home, to his real home. He opened his contacts list, selecting the first name on the list, pressing the green phone symbol under 'Arya'. She answered on the third ring. "Whazzup?"

"It's me. Are you home?"

"I am." He could hear her yawn. "Sorry, I just got up, night shift tonight."

"Are you alone?"

She paused before answering. "Um yeah, it'll be a couple of hours before mum and the boys come home. Robb's going over to Margaery's.

"Good, I'll be there in ten."

Arya's large eyes grew even wider when she opened the door. Jon could see her taking in the red lines over his left eye and the swollen cut on his right cheek. "Fuck. What happened?"

He flinched. "Val."

He strode past her, through the hallway and into the kitchen. He pulled an ice pack from the freezer and pushed it to his face, grunting in relief. Arya had come up behind him. "Is this- has she done this before?"

"No. Well, not really. She's yelled and pushed at me. But never this."

He turned around. The baffled look on Arya's face had been replaced by rage. "I'm gonna kill her!"

"Arya..."

"I swear it, Jon. I'm going over there right now!"

Jon sighed. "Please, don't. I, errr, appreciate the sentiment, I guess? But, not helping, you know!"

"Right," she blinked a couple of times, unclenching her fists, shaking her head. "What do you need?"

"Think I could crash here tonight?"

"Sure, you're always welcome. Mum won't mind. I'd advise you to take Sansa's room though, Robb's more fit for a herd of pigs."

Jon couldn't help chuckling at that. "That's rich, coming from you!"

Arya lifted her arm, aiming to punch his side, as she was used to, but froze mid-air, horror on her face. She moved to the table, loudly dragging out a chair. Jon went to sit opposite her. She scraped her throat. "D'you wanna talk about it?"

He stayed quiet for a couple of minutes. Arya was about to open her mouth, when he finally shrugged. "I should've seen it coming."

He glanced up. A hint of the rage was back in Arya's eyes, she was literally biting her tongue. "I mean, last month... I told you about my colleague Satin, right?"

Arya frowned. "That guy who had a crush on you?"

"Yeah, Sam was there and we were joking and I said something like that I was almost tempted because he's so pretty. And then, when Sam left, Val started shouting at me about how I'd humiliated her, that I should go and run to Satin if he was really that pretty. She even threw a milk jug at me. Only missed my face by a couple of inches."

He realized he was gripping the table. "That's- wow- you're not even into guys. I didn't know she was that jealous."

Jon took a deep breath. "And the past week, she'd been whining about a box with some of my old stuff under the bed. I told her I'd have a look at it when school was out. But apparently she'd become too impatient and then this happened."

He waved a hand at his face. Arya's brow furrowed. "There was a picture of Ygritte in the box, which I honestly didn't even remember. She didn't give me a chance to explain. She... She punched me."

 _There._ He'd said it. Jon Snow, punched in the face by his girlfriend over a girl he hadn't seen in six years. Good thing school was out for the summer. He couldn't imagine the shame, the stares he'd have to face otherwise. "What about your eye?"

"I think she tried to scratch it out."

"Does your mum know?"

Jon cursed under his breath. He couldn't tell his mum. Not yet. He'd have to face her eventually, seeing she'd come home to the house next to the one he was in now in only a couple of hours. "No. I don't want to tell anyone just now."

She offered him a weak smile. "I'm glad you told me."

He felt a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth, twisting his face into a tearing sting. "Who else would I run to?"

Right then, the backdoor opened into the kitchen, revealing Cat Stark, her mouth falling open and her eyes widening in horror as she took in Jon's face. Her groceries crashed to the floor. Jon got up instinctively, only to be pushed back down by gentle hands on his shoulders. Cat's fingers hovered over his face. "Jon, what happened?"

He opened his mouth, no sound coming out. Arya pushed her chair back. "He doesn't want to talk about it, do you, Jon?"

He stared back into Cat's blue eyes, filled with tender concern. After more than eight years, he was still taken aback whenever he saw her genuinely caring about him. When he was a little boy, Cat had always been cold to him, seemingly trying to make it clear that he didn't belong with the Stark children. She'd warmed a bit towards him after his twelfth birhtday. Ocassionally he'd even gone to her to talk when he was fighting with his own mother.

It was only after Ned Stark had died however, that he felt she'd truly come to love him. After their father's death, Jon's mother had been there for the Stark children when their own mother was unable to take care of them. He knew that Cat would be forever grateful to Lyanna. He also knew that he'd meant even more to the family during their darkest months and that Cat truly appreciated that.

Jon found himself nodding weakly at Arya's mum. She opened a drawer, returning to the table with gauze and desinfectant and dabbed at Jon's wounds. He flinched. Arya's spoke up. "Can Jon stay here for a while?"

"Of course," Cat anwered, "Robb could stay over at Margaery's, but his room..."

"He can take Sansa's room."

"Oh, yes, but how long are you planning on staying, dear?"

Arya glared at her. "Mum! Jon can stay as long as he wants!"

Jon stiffled a chuckle at the familiar sight of Arya defending him against her mother. "Yes, he can, but... Well, I wanted to tell you all at supper, but... Sansa's coming home the day after tomorrow."

"That's okay, I think I'll go stay at my mum's house tomorrow night."

Cat was frowning at him. He felt he owed her an explanation. Relief washed over him when Arya exclaimed: "Sansa's coming home? Why?"

Cat straightened her shoulders, a smile spreading across her face. "She's engaged to a young man named Harry Hardying from the Vale."

 


	2. Sansa I

Sansa was sitting in the departure hall at Gulltown Airport, staring furiously at her phone. It was the third time in ten minutes time she'd taken it out of her jacket pocket, willing a text from her mother to appear. She reread their conversation from yesterday.

\- When are you arriving at White Harbour? Love, Mum.

\- Pick me up round 2 pm? xxx

\- Oh... That's the middle of the day, we'll all be at work...

\- That's fine, Mum. I'll just take a taxi.

\- No, no. It's just such short notice. I'll be there, just have to reschedule some appointments.

\- Sorry, San, can't make it tomorrow. But I'll figure sth out. Love, xxx, Mum

\- S Okay, Mum. Who's coming?

\- Did u get my last text, Mum?

After that she hadn't received any response.  _Well, I guess I'll see when I get there._ With only fifteen minutes left to board, she decided to head to the gate. When the plane had taken off, Sansa relaxed and closed her eyes. Her thoughts went to Winterfell. Home. After almost two years at the Gates of the Moon, she was finally returning home.

She'd spent last summer with her friends Myranda Royce and Mya Stone. They'd been on a roadtrip through the Riverlands and had even flown to the Reach to spend a week at the beach. She'd only been with Harry for a couple of months, and he'd told her he didn't mind, that she should go and have fun with her friends.

At the end of summer, she'd moved in with him, though that hadn't been the plan. She had been living with Uncle Petyr for almost a year. Petyr Baelish wasn't really her uncle, but he'd been a close friend of her mother's growing up and he'd offered her a room in his house while she was taking some classes at the Gates of the Moon University. But when she'd come home from the Reach, Petyr had suddenly confessed that he was in love with her, had even tried to kiss her. When she'd told Harry about it, he'd immediately suggested she'd move in with him. 

About a month ago, Harry had received a promotion. His company was opening a new branch in Hornwood and he had been elected to be the new manager there. Hornwood was only a one-hour drive away from Winterfell, so Sansa had been thrilled when Harry had asked her to move there with him, not as his girlfriend, but as his wife.

It would still take a couple of months before Harry could move to Hornwood permanently and he would be extremely busy preparing things for the colleague taking over his position. As he wouldn't have any free time anyway, Sansa had decided to return home early to spend some time with her family before Harry was set to arrive. 

She'd already made some appointments to visit houses in the region. Harry was fond of modern homes, austere interiors full of shiny state-of-the-art appliances and flatscreens. Sansa preferred simple, neat designs as well, but she'd like to add some warm, romantic details to make it feel like a real home.

Of course she'd also start wedding preparations as soon as possible. Mum and Margaery, Robb's girlfriend would probably be happy to assist her with anything she might ask them. Her thoughts drifted to Arya. She tried to imagine involving her sister in dress shopping or choosing flower arrangements and shook her head. Perhaps she could help with the music or picking a menu.She sighed. _N_ _o, perhaps not even that._ They were as different as the sun and the moon, they'd probably end up fighting anyway.

When Sansa had collected her suitcase, she wheeled it out to the pick-up zone and searched for a familiar face. No one was there. She almost decided to turn the corner to where a line of taxis was parked, when she saw a man leaning back against a dark grey Toyota Corolla waving at her. He was dressed in black skinny jeans and a skintight black T-shirt. His brown hair was pulled back in a short ponytail and half of his face was covered by dark sunglasses. She caught herself as she was letting her eyes skim down his well-formed body. He was still waving.  _Creep,_ she thought,  _damn good-looking, but still a creep. Oh shit, he's coming here._ "Sansa!"

As he removed his sunglasses and came jogging up to her, she realized her mistake. It was Jon Snow. The last time she'd seen him, his hair hadn't been this long. He'd still been wearing those ridiculous glasses and he'd been much lankier. She tried to stifle a gasp. Three angry red lines ran over his left eye and his right cheek was covered in a purple-and-yellow bruise adorned by a small scab.

"Princess Sansa," he said with a mock bow. She pursed her lips at his use of that old moniker, which reminded her too strongly of the girl she used to be. It had been Arya who had come up with the nickname, but Robb and Jon had adopted it happily. She almost rolled her eyes, but decided to hold out her hand for him to take and kiss instead. To her surprise he did. It was only a quick brush of his lips, but it sent a shiver down her spine. She cleared her throat. "Jon! I didn't recognize you!"

He nodded: "Yeah, I thought so."

Sansa shrugged. "Well, it's been what, five years?"

"I picked you out in a second."

"It's the hair."

He studied her as if he didn't know what she was referring to. "Hmm, I suppose. Come on, let me take your bags."

After only ten minutes in the car Sansa realized they'd run out of topics to discuss and the drive to Winterfell could easily take two hours. Jon didn't seem to mind the silence, but she couldn't take the awkwardness. In an attempt at conversation, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Did you get into a fight?"

She kept staring at the road while she waited for an answer. Annoyance crept up her chest when he remained silent. She risked a peek at his face. His jaw was clenched and his entire posture had become tensed. When she spotted his white knuckles on the steering wheel, her shoulders slumped in regret. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business."

He exhaled noisily through his nose. "No, it's not."

Sansa turned her head away, rolling her eyes.  _You could have just said you don't want to talk about it... Accept my apology perhaps..._ The silence was even more awkward than before. It wasn't that she didn't like Jon, it was just that she felt like she hardly knew him. And she didn't believe they had much in common. This was promising to become a very long drive.

She decided to turn on the radio, pushing the button until she'd found some pop music station. She leaned back, more relaxed at once and started humming along. "I've got a blank space, baby, and I'll write your name ... You're the king, baby, I'm your queen."

She was startled by Jon's elated laugh. "Taylor Swift, Sansa, seriously?"

She narrowed her eyes at him:  "What's wrong with Taylor Swift?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "So you don't like female singers?"

"Course I do," Jon huffed out. "Name one!"

"Florence and the Machine."

"That's a band."

"Florence is a singer."

Sansa shrugged. "I suppose."

His eyes grew wide. "Excuse me? That woman is a genius and a divine creature!"

Sansa giggled. Jon had always been so quiet and shy. She'd never heard him speak passionately about anything. He grinned back. "Do we have to listen to this, Sansa?"

She held out her hands. "Your car, your radio."

"Sure is," he chuckled as he changed the station. Sansa scrunched her nose at the song he'd chosen. "What's that?"

"It"s called music."

"Nothing I've ever heard before."

His mouth fell open. "You don't know the title of this song?"

She shrugged again. "Something with please?"

"You mean to say you've never heard of The Smiths?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "Didn't you use to watch that witch show as a kid, with the three sisters?"

"Charmed?"

He nodded. "The song used in the opening credits, that's also by them."

"Oh!"

Sansa smiled. _How did he even remember that?_  Perhaps being in a car with Jon for two hours wouldn't be that bad after all. 

 

 


	3. Jon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Arya have breakfast at Manderly's diner. When Arya leaves, Sansa shows up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm kind of trying to define the setting of this story and I've decided to make modern Westeros a mix of British and American culture. I think there will also be some contintental European influences here and there, since that's where I've lived all my life...

It was a quiet morning at Manderly's. Only two or three other tables were occupied. Jon leaned back, his hands curled around his mug of black coffee as he watched Arya gobble down a tower of crumpets dripping with butter and raspberry jam. Her mouth was so full it made her look like a hamster. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "Whaff?" she managed to ask. He just shrugged and raised his eyebrows. She chewed furiously for about half a minute until her mouth was empty. "What are you, Jon? My mother? All that sneaking's made me hungry!"

He stretched legs. "Yeah, thanks again by the way."

She nodded, poking her fork around to load it with another mouthful. "Anytime! Or better not, I s'pose. Y'know what I mean!"

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "I get it."

What Arya was referring to as sneaking was them secretly moving all of Jon's stuff out of Val's flat. They'd had to wait a few days to find the perfect moment, but luckily for them, Val had a rather strict schedule as a fitness instructor. It also helped that Jon didn't have that many personal belongings.

They'd filled a couple of boxes with clothes, books and toiletries. There was another box for his laptop, Playstation, some letters and his favourite wolf duvet. He'd also retrieved the box from under the bed, discovering Ygritte's pictures had been reduced to shreds. Finally Arya had convinced him to load the television - which he _had_ payed for -  into his car. He tried to imagine Val's face as she realized she wouldn't be able to watch that telenovela thing she was always gushing about.

"Sure you're not hungry?"

He glanced up at Arya's face and almost empty plate. 'No, thanks. Too early."

She rolled her eyes and pulled a stag out of her back pocket. "Coffee's on me."

"Tell Gendry I said hi!"

That earned him another eye roll. "He isn't coming in today. But Hot Pie's on cooking duty. Perhaps he'll make you some honey cakes if I ask nicely."

He frowned at her. "Why would I need honey cakes?"

She pouted her lips and cooed: "To eat away all your sorrow!"

She threw up her hands at the questioning look on his face. "It's what Sansa would do!"

 _Sansa would eat lemon cakes._ He shook his head. 'May you save many cats today, sis!"

She inclined her head and marched off to the door, where her sister had just entered with Jeyne Poole. He saw Arya murmur something at them in passing and Jeyne shaking her head at Sansa. The two women kissed each other's cheeks and Jeyne walked out again.

Sansa pushed back the sleeve of her baby blue cardigan to check her watch. Her shiny auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail that cascaded down her back. Her face had lost some of its youthful roundness since Jon had last seen her, making her cheekbones stand out a little sharper. Sansa had always been pretty, but she'd grown into a beautiful woman. The fact that she wasn't wearing as much make-up as she had in her teens certainly helped.

She let her eyes scan the room and caught sight of Jon. Her lips pulled into a smile and she waved at him. He raised a hand in response; To his surprise she made her way to his table and slipped into the seat Arya had just vacated. She beamed at him. "Hi Jon!"

He offered her a half-smile back, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. "Sansa."

They both ordered coffee and waited as Sansa sat studying her manicured nails. The colour matched that of her cardigan, except for the nail on her left ringfinger, which was covered in darker blue glitters, drawing attention to the sparkling blue gems on her engagement ring. "I always pictured you as a diamond type of girl."

She glanced up at him and shrugged. "So did I. But Harry said he'd chosen sapphires because of my eyes."

 _Really?_ He met her eyes, as if trying to confirm the comparison. "I suppose he has a point."

She batted her eyelashes in an exaggerated gesture as their coffees were served. Jon wrapped his hands around the new mug and waited for it to cool. Sansa added a scoop of sugar and a swig of milk before stirring. She took a careful sip and made a face. Jon rolled his eyes and added a large spoonful of sugar to her coffee and emptied the milk jug into it. "You still do that," he asked, "trying to drink it almost black and then deciding you don't like it after all?"

She blushed and shook her head. "Gods, Jon, how do you remember all those things? It's a bit creepy to be honest."

"Nothing creepy about it! I practically grew up in your house and you always made a spectacle out of it!"

"Relax," she said, pausing to sip her coffee, "I was just teasing you."

"Better?"

"Much better!"

She closed her eyes and a sound close to a moan escaped her lips. Jon looked down into his coffee, ears turning red, but Sansa didn't seem to notice. "I miss hazelnut lattes," she confessed. He chuckled. "This is Manderly's, Princess Sansa, not some fancy coffee shop in King's Landing."

She narrowed her eyes at him, lips pursed. He huffed and asked: "What  _are_ you doing here?"

She folded her hands. "I'm here for a job interview."

Jon blinked. He tried to imagine it, Sansa Stark as a waitress. "I thought you wanted to work as a nurse?"

Sansa nodded. "I do, but the earliest I might be able start at Winterfell Royal is November. And I'm sure I'm not the only candidate. For the time being, a job is a job. And I could use the cash."

He frowned at her. She was certainly no longer the same Sansa who had left for King's Landing with Joffrey Baratheon five years ago. The money comment bothered him. He thought Harry Harding sold luxury cars. "Well, good luck then!"

She smiled and stretched out her leg, pointing at her shoe. "That's why I'm wearing these. My lucky heels."

He grinned at her. She was wearing her Gran Minisa's silk wedding shoes. "Aren't you saving those for the big day?"

She shook her head. "I think I'll wear them for the ceremony, but I want new shoes as well."

He rolled his eyes, which earned him a glare, but she quickly changed her expression. "Oh, that's right. I, um, sort of wanted to ask you for another favour?"

He sighed. "What's that?"

She bit her lip. "I have an appointment to visit a house in Dreadfort the day after tomorrow, but I don't have a car yet and everyone else is busy."

He scrunched his nose. "Why would you want to live in Dreadfort?"

"The pictures looked nice enough..."

"Don't expect too much of it," he warned her.

"Does that mean you'll drive me there?"

She was batting her eyelashes again. "Please, Jon Snow? I'll buy you breakfast!"

He shook his head and chuckled. "Alright then."

She clapped her hands, practically bouncing up and down in her seat. "Thank you!"

The door opened again and twenty-stone Wyman Manderly entered his diner. Sansa jumped up. "Wish me luck!"

Jon sat smiling as he watched her follow Manderly into the back office.

 

 


End file.
